


The Right Kind of Distance

by graceless_wolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe-Human, Alternate Universe-Road Trip, DFAB Sam Winchester, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, Slightly Angsty but theres a fluffy gay baby ending, also dancing in new orleans bc im GAY, bc ily bb, sam and gabe are gay ass lab partners, theres a lot of gay in this, warning u Now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceless_wolf/pseuds/graceless_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up, Gabriel had always been taught – by his brothers, by his own experiences – that every human being on Earth was given one mistake. A mistake, much like your age, was the sum of years and experiences. The universe would look at you, see your faults and flaws and make a decision. Many people, most in fact, didn’t take their mistake. Your mistake was supposed to shape you, change you into the person you were supposed to be.</p>
<p>	Gabriel decided when he was twelve years old that, whenever the opportunity arose, he would greet his mistake head on. </p>
<p>	He met his mistake in his junior year of college. It went by the name of Sam.</p>
<p>	They were lab partners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Kind of Distance

“You have to find the right distance

Between people,

Too close, and they overwhelm you

Too far, and they abandon you”

~Hanif Kureishi~

 

(**)

_2 months, 3 weeks, and 4 days until New Year’s Eve._

_October 9 th_

 

            Growing up, Gabriel had always been taught – by his brothers, by his own experiences – that every human being on Earth was given one mistake. A mistake, much like your age, was the sum of years and experiences. The universe would look at you, see your faults and flaws and make a decision. Many people, most in fact, didn’t take their mistake. Your mistake was supposed to shape you, change you into the person you were supposed to be.

 

            Gabriel decided when he was twelve years old that, whenever the opportunity arose, he would greet his mistake head on.

 

            He met his mistake in his junior year of college. It went by the name of Sam.

 

            They were lab partners.

 

(**)

 

            Our story begins with a boy, just becoming a man, meeting another boy, and falling in love.

 

            It’s not unusual for such events to occur. They happen in every story. Gabriel knows this, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to place the exact color of Sam’s eyes over the span of weeks.

 

            They talk a lot. In fact, half of the class, they aren’t paying the teacher any attention at all. Instead, they swap stories and jokes, occasionally getting so caught up in talking that they end up staying there for twenty minutes after the lecture lets out.

 

Gabriel knows it’s a horrible thing he’s done, falling for Sam, considering he doesn’t even know the kid’s last name. So naturally, he calls his brother. Not Michael or Luci, those two are far too preoccupied with work and each other. He calls the only brother with a sensible head on his shoulders.

 

(**)

 

            “Gabriel, you know nothing about this boy.” Castiel says, voice crackling through the speaker.

 

            “I know lots of things about Sam, Cassie.” Gabriel says.

 

            “Like what? What could you possibly know about Sam? You met him two months ago,” says Castiel, “and don’t call me Cassie.”

 

            Gabriel huffs indignantly, rolling his eyes towards the phone. “I know he wears work boots every day. I know he has one pair of ridiculous bright yellow chucks he wears when he trips in another puddle and his boots get soaked through,” his voice goes fond, “He trips in puddles almost every other day.”

 

            Castiel is silent on the other end of the call, so Gabriel takes the hint and continues, “I know he listens to weird obscure indie music no one on this side of the country has ever heard of. I know he used to travel a lot. I know he likes classic movies and his brother has a pretty old car he couldn’t care less about. Sam, that is, not his brother. I know Sam likes health food, and won’t touch liquor, but he likes cigarettes.”

 

            He stops because there’s a knot in his throat the size of Texas and he isn’t sure what to do with it.

 

            Castiel’s voice is soft when he replies, “Gabriel, please be careful.”

 

            Gabriel nods before remembering that Castiel can’t actually see him. “Yeah, I will. I’ll talk to you later, Cassie. Love you. Bye.”

 

            “Sleep well, Gabriel. I love you, too.”

 

            In the end, he doesn’t really think last names matter all that much when you’re falling in love.

 

(**)

 

            There’s something twisted about Sam.

 

            It’s like the strings that kept a person together had all but snapped, and the ones that were left were worn and threadbare, unraveling piece by piece. Gabriel didn’t know what happened when a person lost every string. He didn’t want to find out.

 

            Gabriel can see it in the way Sam moves. He sees it in the way Sam flinches at loud noises, or sudden movement. He hears it when Sam talks about home. Sam doesn’t talk about growing up much, but Gabriel learns enough. Sam’s mother is dead – a house fire, suspected arson. His father isn’t much of a father, hasn’t been for a long, long time, and his brother’s a good man.

 

            In turn, Gabriel tells Sam about his own family. Michael and Lucifer, who are constantly fighting and fucking and making up and making out. No one in the family talks about Michael and Lucifer’s relationship. He tells Sam about Castiel, who went through a rebellious phase, but now he’s an author. Raphael, who doesn’t visit often, but when he does, mothers them all to pieces in a strange, oddly caring way.

 

            He briefly mentions Anna, who died in a car crash when she was seventeen. He doesn’t mention that he was the one driving the car.

 

            He doesn’t mention that he knows the look in Sam’s eyes when he talks about his dad, because Gabriel’s own father wasn’t much of a man either.

 

            They talk about music, food, traveling, and relationships that worked and didn’t work. They don’t talk about the broken things. They don’t talk about their strings.

 

(**)

 

“Let me take you out for breakfast.” Gabriel says one day, five minutes before class lets out. It tumbles off his lips before he can stop it, but he holds his breath, waiting for Sam’s response.

 

Sam stops, leveling Gabriel with a startled look. “Are you asking me out?”

 

Gabriel backpedals furiously. “No. No, not like that. Jesus, Kiddo, how big is that ego of yours? A study session. Yeah, you know, midterms?”

 

Sam nods slowly, a small smile curving his lips and Gabriel ignores the sudden pickup in his heartbeat.

 

(**)

_2 months, 3 weeks until New Year’s Eve_

_October 12 th_

 

He sets his alarm for four am.  

 

Gabriel, in general, is not a morning person. But he downs three cups of coffee, a red bull, and two monsters and shows up at Sam’s dorm with a lollipop dangling from his lips. He’s got a plan that needs carrying out, and if you want something done right, you overdose on caffeine and do it yourself.

 

On second thought, if the way his foot is twitching and how his hands are drumming out a constant rhythm are to be considered, he probably overdid it.

 

Sam answers the door in flannel sleep pants and a holey band shirt and Gabriel thinks that this was a horrible, awful idea because Sam should not look that attractive rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

 

He pauses for a second, dragging his eyes away from the soft curve of Sam’s hips and looks him in the eyes. “Morning, partner! Ready for breakfast?”

 

“Gabriel?” Sam asks incredulously, “What time is it?”

  
            Gabriel grins and holds his bare wrist up to his face, “It’s roughly oh-dear-god-why-this o’ clock, Sammy. I’m hungry.”

 

Sam rolls his eyes and shuts the door. Gabriel waits, heart sinking to his stomach before he turns to walk down the hallway. He gets halfway before Sam catches up to him. He’s got on a faded pair of jeans and a loose over shirt that he’s still tugging over a dark gray Henley.

 

“C’mon Gabe, somewhere, there’s a cup of coffee with my name on it.”

 

Gabriel smiles brightly, falling into step with Sam. “There’s a diner down the street that has the best cup of coffee you’ll ever have.”

 

(**)

 

They spend half an hour eating breakfast and Gabe is right about the coffee. He almost regrets it, actually. The sound Sam makes after his first sip goes straight to Gabriel’s groin and he resists the urge to throw himself at him.

 

After they eat, Sam looks mildly amused, but mostly confused.

 

“Was that it? It’s only what, 5:30? _Maybe?_ ” he asks.

 

“I don’t know what you mean, Sammy.”

 

“C’mon, Gabe, ‘fess up. You’re planning something, I can tell.” Sam says, leaning towards him over the table.

 

“How could you possibly know that?” Gabe asks, leaning forward, too. They’re close, now, and Gabe is forever fascinated at the sheer number of colors he can pick out in Sam’s eyes.

 

“Don’t ever play poker, Gabe, because you have a tell,” Sam murmurs, and leans into his space.

 

They hover there, on the brink of something, and Gabriel wants to jump off whatever edge this is. Suddenly, the diner doesn’t seem to exist anymore. It’s just them, in this little bubble of the world where nothing can ever touch them. That thought is too much, too much of something he knows he can’t have, so he tugs back, back tense against the booth’s back.

 

“You’re right,” Gabe says, a wicked grin curling the edges of his mouth, “Now, we head east.”

 

(**)

 

Sam takes a minute to respond.

 

“Gabriel, we have finals in like, three months. Halloween is in three weeks. I was going home for Thanksgiving. How far east are you thinking we’re going to go?”

 

“I want to see Times Square.”

 

“No.”

 

Gabe huffs, “Look, Sam, finals will be here when we get back. You’re allowed to miss like three holidays with the family a year; I think that’s actually a law or something.”

 

“Gabriel-,”

 

“No, Sam, listen.” Gabriel cuts him off because he’s been planning this since he saw Sam on that first day, whether he realized it or not. “I want to get out of here. I know it’s stupid and reckless, but so am I. And there’s a world out there, Sammy, a world beyond this stupid little college town. There’s a potato museum somewhere out there. Maybe I want to see that. Maybe I want to drink coffee at a café on a street corner in Maine. Maybe I want to take a jazz class in Minnesota. Did you know that there’s a giant ball of twine sitting on the side of a road somewhere for some ungodly reason? Maybe I want to see that. Maybe I want to see all of that and maybe, maybe I want to see it with you.”

 

Gabriel sits back, breathing hard. Sam is looking at him like it’s the first time he’s ever seen him and there’s some unreadable emotion in his eyes.

 

“Gabe,” he says, “I can’t.” His voice breaks on the last word, and Gabriel feels his eyes burning.

 

“C’mon, Sammy.” His voice is quiet, softer than he ever thought it could be. “When’s the last time you did something just because you could? When’s the last time you did something just because it sounded fun?”

 

Sam is silent, but his eyes are locked on Gabriel. The gaze is intense, and Gabriel wants to pull away, because Sam can’t look at him like that when it doesn’t mean what Gabriel wants it too.

 

“Maybe this is a mistake, but it sounds like a helluva fun mistake to make,” Gabriel continues, “Make a mistake with me, Sam.”

 

“Gabriel, there’s other people than just us,” Sam says softly, and Gabe can hear it in his voice. It’s his dad, or someone. It’s one of the broken things in Sam that’s holding him back.

 

He just wants Sam to be okay again.

 

“Whatever, whoever it is, Sam. They don’t matter right now. What matters is: you, me, and a giant fucking ball of twine.”

 

            Sam nods softly, contemplative. “We’re taking my truck.”

 

            Gabriel laughs, clear and warm, “What? You don’t like Lola?”

 

            “You own a smart car, Gabriel.”

 

(**)

 

            Sam drives. Gabriel pouts, but he’s also still sort of vibrating from all the caffeine, so it’s probably the right decision.

 

            They’re trying to beat rush hour on the Interstate, but don’t quite make it. When they’re in one of the stiller moments, Gabriel pulls out his phone and calls Michael. Voicemail, of course.

 

            “Hey, Michael! Look, I know this probably looks like I’m abandoning my studies in favor of dragging my lab partner across country on a spur of the moment road trip without a definite return date, but I just wanted you to know, that that is exactly what this is. Feel free to not call me back, see you sometime in the indeterminate future.”

 

            Sam laughs from the driver’s seat, and Gabriel feels an odd sort of pride swell in his chest.

 

            Sam calls his brother shortly after, but Gabriel can tell the exact moment the conversation goes sour.

 

            “Hey, Dean, look, I know midterms are coming up, but I kind of – well – I’m headed east with my lab partner.”

 

            Sam winces and Gabe resists the urge to reach out and soothe him.

 

            “I don’t really know, Dean. Maybe I’m just getting a little bit of wanderlust? Maybe I should have taken off a year before going to college. No- no, Dean, don’t put Dad on the phone. Dean!”

 

            Sam sighs, before saying, “Hey Dad.”

 

            “No, no I’m fine. What? No I wasn’t kidnapped I - oh my god. Do not call the police.”

 

            There’s a long pause, and yelling on the other side of the line.

 

            Sam’s voice is cold and quiet when he finally replies. “I went to college to get away from you. I’m twenty-one, and I can go wherever I want. Tell Dean I love him, and I’ll talk to him soon. Goodbye, John.”

 

            Neither of them speaks again for a long time. When they cross over into Nevada, Gabriel puts a hand over Sam’s, where it lies tense on the console.

 

            “We should find a place to eat.”

 

            Sam nods, shoulders slumping slightly. Gabe can almost see the next string snapping.

 

            Gabriel really, really wants Sam to be okay.

 

(**)

 

            They pass through Nevada quickly, and then loop up through Oregon and Idaho.

 

Gabriel buys Michael a potato figurine from the potato museum and Sam rolls his eyes so hard Gabriel worries he might break something. However, when he expresses this belief, Sam locks him out of the truck for half an hour.

 

 

(**)

 

 Arizona’s next. They find a motel just outside the desert and decide that this will be their first official stop. For dinner, they have ham sandwiches and warm beer and Sam tells Gabe that he made the right choice when he said yes to this ridiculous trip.

 

            Gabriel falls asleep smiling.

 

(**)

_2 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days until New Year’s Eve_

_October 16 th_

           

            The next morning, Sam is on his laptop.

 

            “What are you doing?” Gabe asks, sleep making his voice thick.

 

            Sam glances at him, and his eyes seem off for a second, before he clears his throat and replies, “Uh – tourist sites. This is a road trip, right?”

 

            Gabriel grins, and they spend two hours bickering on whether to go see the Heard Museum,

 

            (“Gabriel, it’s one of the largest collections of Native American artifacts!”

 

            “Booooring,” Gabriel replies, mouth full of breakfast, “who wants to see dusty old artifacts?”)

 

            Or the Grand Canyon,

 

            (“Sam it’s the _Grand Canyon.”_

            Sam grumbles, and then offers up his hand to play rock, paper, scissors.)

 

(**)

 

            Gabriel wins and is, Sam says, entirely too smug about the whole thing.

 

(**)

 

            The skywalk has a glass bottom, and Gabriel jumps up and down on it just to see if he can. Sam snaps something about ‘disrupting the peace’ and Gabriel grins at him. They spend all day there, looking out at the canyon.

 

            It’s weird to think that in the grand scheme of things, they’re so insignificant. It puts things into an odd sort of perspective. Sam is quiet, where Gabe is narrating their view, but even that only lasts so long.

 

            “Sam?” Gabriel asks after a particularly long pause.

 

            “Yeah, Gabe?” Sam replies, small smile spreading across his face.

 

            “Do you think your dad is actually gonna call the cops on me?”

 

            Sam laughs and tugs Gabe into a hug. “If he does,” Sam says, and his voice is quiet, right next to Gabe’s ear, “I’ve got your six.”

 

            Gabriel pulls away, smiling. “My six?”

 

            “Yeah,” says Sam, a light pink coloring his cheeks, “It means ‘I’ve got your back.’ It’s a fighter pilot term.”

 

            Gabriel raises an eyebrow, “Fighter pilots?”

 

            “C’mon,” Sam groans, “don’t tell me you’ve never seen Top Gun.”

 

(**)

           

            They watch Top Gun on Sam’s laptop, curled up on the same bed, while the other lies cold and abandoned on the other side of the motel room.

 

            Gabe wakes up sprawled across Sam’s chest, the laptop shoved to the foot of the bed. The sun is streaming through the motel’s windows and Gabe wants to make it go back down for just a few more hours. Sam’s chest is warm and his arm is thrown around Gabriel’s shoulders and Gabe knows he should move, but he can’t. He physically can’t. Sam’s a heavy motherfucker.

 

            “C’mon, Gigantor,” Gabriel says, lightly slapping Sam’s cheek, “If you get up we can go to that museum you were talking about.”

 

            Sam smiles, but doesn’t move.

 

            Gabriel huffs, leaning up to flick Sam’s nose. “I know you’re awake. Get off me, you – you Jolly Green Giant!”

  
            “Did you really just call me a ‘Jolly Green Giant’?” Sam asks with his eyes still closed.

 

            “Your arm weighs, like, a ton. Literally.”

 

            Sam shifts, tucking his arm back under himself, and Gabriel suddenly feels cold. “You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means,” Sam says in a crappy Spanish accent.

 

            “Oh my god, you did not just quote The Princess Bride at me.”

 

            Sam is smiling as he rolls out of bed, “Good, you got it.”

 

            He rolls his eyes, decidedly ignoring the way Sam looks when he’s sleepy, how he looks when he’s crawling out of bed _with Gabriel._

“God, my binder’s killing me,” Sam huffs, before freezing. He turns towards Gabriel, but doesn’t say anything else. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

            “Binder?” Gabe asks.

 

            “Uh, yeah,” Sam says. “I’m- I-”

           

            Instead of saying anything else, Sam lifts his shirt, revealing a piece of constricting black fabric, almost resembling a tank top.

 

            Gabriel nods as the pieces click together in his brain. “Oh, okay. I mean, it’s okay.”

 

            “It is?” Sam asks.

 

            “Totally. I mean, I sort of already had a vague idea, but I wasn’t sure. You’re a great guy, Sam. This doesn’t change the fact that you’re completely awesome. Hell, man, you hopped in a truck with your lab partner; I don’t think you could do anything to make you any less awesome.”

 

            “Really?” Sam asks. He looks oddly hopeful in the way a stray puppy looks hopeful when you pass them in their cardboard box.

 

            “Of course,” Gabriel says, smiling, “but dude, seriously how the hell did you sleep in that all night?”

 

            “I was comfortable,” Sam says, face reddening.

 

            Gabriel grins, “Flattery will get you nowhere. And put your shirt back on, you’re gonna blind someone.”

 

            Sam smiles, soft and real, and Gabriel’s heart melts a little bit.

 

            “You said something about a museum?” Sam asks, his eyes hopeful.

 

            Gabriel could never hold up against the puppy dog face. He totally blames Castiel for this weakness.

 

(**)

 

            The Heard Museum is the largest collection of Native American artifacts. It is a place for remembering where we came from, a culture founded on agriculture and art.

 

            Or at least, that’s what the plaque outside the door says. It also says, much to Gabriel’s displeasure, that there is no talking above a whisper, food, drink, or animals in the museum.

 

            They spend a couple hours there, with Sam spouting off facts about what they see like a god damn encyclopedia, and Gabe listening. About halfway through, he stops looking at the artifacts and starts looking at Sam.

 

            Gabriel likes the way Sam’s lips look when he smiles, how his mouth shapes words. He likes how Sam’s hair falls in his face despite his constant pushing it behind his ear. Sam smiles a lot in the museum.

           

(**)

 

           

They get lunch at a little café inside the museum and debate superheroes.

 

            “C’mon, man,” Sam says, grinning over his salad, “Iron Man is so much better than Batman!”

 

            “Not true,” says Gabriel, “Iron Man has the fancy suit to help him; Batman’s only got his own power! That’s gotta say something about awesome-ness.”

 

            “Have you even seen Iron Man 3? He wears the suit like, twice if even that.”

 

            “That’s one movie, Sam. Singular. As in, it totally and completely does not count.”

 

            “Okay, but even in the first two, Iron Man built his suit. He’s a genius.”

 

            Gabriel pauses, “You truly think Iron Man is more awesome than Batman.”

 

            Sam nods once, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

 

            “Sam, that’s it. This is the last straw. I’m sleeping at my mother’s house tonight.” Gabriel says solemnly.

 

            Sam laughs so hard he falls off his chair. Gabriel laughs at the shocked look on Sam’s face, and promptly joins him on the floor.

 

            They get kicked out of the museum on grounds of ‘disrupting the peace.’

 

            “At least it’s not the Grand Canyon.” Gabriel says as they’re driving back to the motel.

 

            Sam has to pull over because he’s laughing again. Gabriel thinks going to the museum was the best idea he’s ever had. He’ll go to every boring museum this side of the equator if it means he gets to see Sam laugh like that.

 

            He is so completely, utterly screwed.

 

(**)

_2 months, 1 week, and 6 days until New Year’s Eve_

_October 21 st_

 

            In New Mexico, Gabriel makes Sam stop in Roswell to see the alien museum.

 

            “Sam, look! Take a picture of me with this alien!”

 

“Gabriel, did you not see the sign! Don’t touch the aliens- _exhibits_. Don’t touch the exhibits.” Sam looks tired, and Gabe knows it’s because his dad called him again last night. He was pretending to sleep when Sam curled into his own bed.

 

“C’mon, Sammy, live a little!” Gabriel grins, posing next to the alien as if he’s cowering in terror.

  
            Sam is smiling again when the camera goes off.

 

(**)

 

They’re in Texas, at the world’s third largest fire hydrant, when Michael calls them.

 

Gabriel pulls away from the railing and sits on the curb in the parking lot to talk to him.

 

            “Hey, Mikey! What’s shakin’?” he asks.

 

            “Cut the crap, Gabriel Novak, where the hell are you?” Michael says. His voice is cold and furious.

 

            “Aw, might wanna tone it down, Michael. People might actually think you care.” Gabriel says. He knows his brother. Michael isn’t worried about him. Not anymore. Not since Anna.

 

Michael is worried about their family’s precious reputation. He’s worried about their father finding out Gabriel’s gone rogue. Like he’d actually care. Right now, their dad is in Singapore, or Shang Hai, or some other country where he can work and forget about the children that used to need him.

 

            “Gabriel.” Michael says his name like a threat, “I won’t ask you again.”

 

            Gabriel snorts, “Well, that’s good. I wasn’t gonna answer anyways.”

 

            Michael sighs, like he’s tired and done with anything Gabriel has to say. This, in all actuality, is highly probable. “You’re just like her.”

 

            “Don’t talk about Anna,” Gabriel says. “You don’t get to talk about her.”

 

            “You don’t get to tell me I can’t talk about my own sister.” Michael replies coldly.

 

            “She was my sister, too.” Says Gabriel, but there’s something broken in it.

 

            “And you’re the reason she’s gone,” Michael snaps.

           

            Gabriel doesn’t respond, stunned into silence. He knew his family blamed him for Anna’s death. Hell, _he_ blamed him. But they had never said it like that, like they were confirming what he knew all along.

 

            “Gabriel, come home. I don’t know what this is, what you think you’re doing, but it can’t be more important than family.”

 

            Gabriel thinks about how Sam looked in just his sleep pants and a wife beater, how his eyes lit up in the Heard Museum, how he quoted old movies and only let himself have two cigarettes a day because it was a horrible habit. “Yes, he is,” he says quietly.

 

            “Don’t do anything stupid, Gabriel.”

 

            “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, but it lacks the usual hint of affection.

 

            The line goes dead.

 

            He lets his head fall between his hands and curses the day he ever thought sneaking Anna out to see her boyfriend was a good idea. He was some fling Michael hadn’t approved of. Anna, ever the rebel, begged Gabriel to sneak her out. Gabriel did.

 

There was a dog in the road. She had screamed at him to swerve and he had listened. The car wrapped itself around a telephone pole. The passenger side hit first. Gabriel spent three weeks in the hospital. Anna died instantly.

 

            He can’t even pin the blame on a drunk driver. It was him, sober and laughing and Anna, who died for the sake of some stray dog. Her boyfriend didn’t even come to the funeral.

           

(**)

 

            He rejoins Sam ten minutes later.

  
            “Why would Texas even build the world’s third largest fire hydrant anyways?” Gabriel asks as he walks up.

 

            “Why is there a giant ball of twine in Kansas?”

 

            “Fair enough.”

 

            “Halloween’s in a week and a half.”

 

            Sam raises an eyebrow. “Is it?”

 

            “Yup,” Gabriel says, popping the ‘P’. “We should go to New Orleans next.”

 

            There’s a quiet laugh from beside him, “Aye, aye, captain.”

 

            They’re quiet for a few moments. Gabriel has questions about Sam, and he knows Sam has questions about him. But those can wait. He turns to face Sam again.

 

“That’s a damned big fire hydrant.”

 

“There are two more out there that are bigger than this one.”

 

Gabriel laughs, “Yes, Sammy, yes there are.”

 

(**)

 

They spend two more days in Texas, one of which is spent driving out of Texas. It’s a pretty big state.

 

“Everything’s bigger in Texas,” Sam says, “Even Texas.”

 

“Not the fire hydrants,” Gabriel laughs.

 

Gabriel likes the way Sam drives. He keeps one hand on the wheel, but the other is in constant motion. Sometimes it’s holding a cigarette, dangling out the window. Sometimes he drums out whatever rhythm is playing on the radio. They learn each other’s favorite songs by heart and argue over the merits of Elvis Presley and Bob Dylan.

 

“Great lyrics, god awful voice,” Gabriel says.

 

Sam smiles and nods in quiet agreement. “It’s the lyrics that are the most important, though. You could be the best singer in the world, but your lyrics have got to mean something.”

 

“You really believe that?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Sam agrees to go see Graceland with Gabe once they reach Mississippi. Gabriel thinks it would be fun to see Haight-Ashbury on the way back.

 

(**)

 

Sometimes they don’t get to a motel in time for night. Sometimes they drive through the night. When they’re tired on the road, they pile whatever blankets they brought in the bed of the truck and tell scary stories by flashlight until they pass out.

 

Sam falls asleep first. Gabriel stays up to look at the stars, and count Sam’s eyelashes. Sometimes they wake up on opposite sides of the truck. Other times, when one of them has a nightmare, or maybe it’s just when they’re lonely, they reach out to one another.

 

Gabriel likes those nights the best. He likes waking up with Sam’s chin tucked over his head. He likes waking up with their legs tangled together. It makes him think that they’re something that they aren’t, something he wishes they were. It makes him think that even if they aren’t, who’s to say that they couldn’t be? That maybe, this is his mistake. He thinks he wouldn’t mind so much if it was.

 

“You talk in your sleep,” Gabriel says one morning over cold eggs and colder coffee.

 

“Yeah,” Sam says, “I know. Dean used to complain about it a lot.”

 

“I wish I knew you growing up,” Gabriel says. It isn’t what he meant to say. In fact, he hadn’t meant to say anything at all. But, he realizes, it’s true. One of the truest things he’s said.

 

Sam pauses, eyes surveying Gabriel thoughtfully over his mug. He looks like he wants to say something else, but is quick to retaliate with an insult. This is nice, Gabriel thinks, this is familiar.

 

“I’m kind of glad we didn’t. Tell your brothers that I’m sorry for every April fool’s Day they ever had to go through.”

 

Gabe snorts, “Please, I’m the pranking king.”

 

“Exactly,” Sam says, but it’s fond. Suddenly, Gabe doesn’t mind that there’s a chill in the October air, or that his coffee is almost ice temperature. He feels warmer than he has in months.

 

(**)

_2 months, 1 day before New Year’s Eve_

_October 30 th_

 

They get to New Orleans the night before Halloween. Gabe laughs and calls it witchcraft. Sam shoves his shoulder and calls it good driving.

 

The motels they stay in are always cheap, always dirty, and always have two beds.

 

Except for this one, it would seem.

 

It’s a little on the expensive side, but Gabe isn’t exactly poor, so money isn’t the problem. The problem is the full sized bed in the middle of the room. Gabe’s small, but Sam is roughly the size of a full grown moose and there’s no way that they’re both going to fit on that bed without some major touching going on.

 

Gabriel doesn’t necessarily deem this to be a problem, however, and Sam simply shrugs and drops his (it’s-not-a-purse-Gabriel) satchel on one of the chairs.

 

They sleep curled around each other.

 

Waking up isn’t nearly as awkward as it should be.

 

(**)

 

New Orleans is a buzz of activity.

 

It’s Halloween and they have breakfast in a warm coffee shop. Sam orders for both of them while Gabriel stares eagerly out of the window at the street.

 

The waitress gives them a knowing look when she comes back with their coffee and pastries and Gabriel flushes from his ears to the tips of his toes. Sam just smiles and tells him he should blush more.

 

“Where are we headed first?” Sam asks him after they’ve finished and Gabe shrugs.

 

“What do you mean?” Gabe asks in return.

 

“We’re in New Orleans, it’s Halloween, and I’m already farther from home than I’ve ever been. I want to do something.” Sam says. Gabe understands.

 

“Let’s just walk and see what we find,” he says.

 

**

 

They walk until they’re hungry, stopping in stores and on street corners. Gabriel buys a cheap witch’s hat to wear as they go and Sam laughs when Gabriel fires spells at him using finger pistols.

 

Sam buys Gabe a broom to go with it, and Gabriel thinks his smile might just break his face into two pieces.

 

“What can I say?” Sam says, smirking, “I’m a giver.”

 

“Well that’s convenient,” says Gabriel.

 

Sam looks at him curiously, “Because?”

 

Gabriel waggles his eyebrows and says, “Because I’m most definitely a receiver.”

 

He takes an inordinate amount of joy in the blush on Sam’s face.

 

**

 

The day goes by surprisingly fast. As the sun is going down, the streets are filling up with people. Gabe drags Sam through the crowd, ducking between people to find a quiet spot. There’s music playing loudly, a quick swing type beat. Gabriel expects that they’ll head back to the motel and watch some shitty Halloween themed Lifetime movie. He isn’t expecting for Sam to make a sudden stop in the middle of the street, bringing Gabe to a screeching halt as well.

 

He looks back at Sam, more than a little confused, before Sam pulls him in with a sly grin. Gabriel is sure he looks more than a little confused, but it clears away when Sam starts dancing.

 

They spin and twist and turn amidst the other people there, but all Gabe can see is Sam. His hair is a mess, but Gabe is certain his own is worse. Sam dips him once or twice and Gabriel can feel his heart beating a jack rabbit rhythm against his chest. They’re laughing and smiling like lunatics, and neither of them can actually dance.

 

It’s better than a jazz class in Minnesota.

 

(**)

 

After a few hours, people begin to clear out. The music is quieting down, whatever source it had come from is obviously gone as well, but there’s a single saxophone player on the street corner packing up his instruments.

 

Gabriel is getting ready to pull away from Sam, head back to the motel and – for lack of a better word – crash. Preferably hard. But then Sam is running up to the old man with the weathered sax case and handing him a twenty dollar bill.

 

When he returns to Gabe, the man is opening the case again.

 

“I gave him money to keep playing,” Sam says cautiously, as though he’s not sure if this is something he’s allowed to be doing. Gabriel doesn’t have a real answer. Then Sam is holding out a hand. His hair is a wreck and his eyes are bright and Gabe is really, really, in love with this kid.

 

“Dance with me,” Sam says.

 

“Okay,” says Gabriel.

 

(**)

 

The new tune is slow. It’s mellow and soothing and it reminds Gabriel of the old vinyl records Lucifer used to play throughout the house on Saturdays, before he sold his record machine. Sam doesn’t hesitate to pull Gabe closer than they were before. They aren’t so much dancing, as they are swaying in a small circle.

 

It sounds suspiciously like Frank Sinatra, and his suspicions are confirmed when Sam starts humming softly in his ear.

 

“Something in your eyes, was so inviting,” Sam sings, “Something in your smile, was so exciting. Something in my heart, told me I must have you.”

 

Sam’s voice is a soft croon in his ear, and Gabe lets out a contented sigh. His arms are tucked around Sam’s shoulders, and Sam’s hands are warm on his waist.

 

It’s just an old song he’s heard a million times, but it sounds different off Sam’s lips.

 

It’s just two friends on a road trip, but under the dim street lights of New Orleans, he doesn’t mind pretending it’s something more.

 

Sam presses a soft kiss to his forehead when he thinks Gabe is asleep that night.

 

(**)

 

They don’t talk about it. Gabriel doesn’t want to ask if it’s because it didn’t mean anything, or if it’s because it’s simply because there’s nothing to talk about.

 

(**)

 

The loop back up to Kansas (and the world’s largest ball of twine) warrants two stops in Mississippi and Arkansas.

 

(**)

 

“Can you even spell Mississippi?” Sam asks as they pass the ‘Welcome to Mississippi’ sign.

 

It takes Gabriel three tries. To be fair, he’s had two cups of gas stop espresso, and Sam can’t do it on the first try either.

 

They spend the day at Graceland, because Sam remembered his promise. It’s not as awesome as Gabriel had hoped.

 

“Not what you expected?” Sam asks as they drive away.

 

“They turned the home of _the King_ into a tourist attraction, Sammy,” Gabe says, “of course it wasn’t what I expected.”

 

He looks over at Sam again and his breath catches in his throat. There’s a cigarette dangling from the tips of Sam’s fingers and the sun is setting out of Sam’s window, the golden light making it look like Sam’s on fire, or wearing a halo. Gabriel isn’t sure which is more accurate.

 

(**)

 

            Somehow, they get roped into a newlywed’s game in a restaurant just outside of Mississippi. If they win, their meal is on the house, and Gabe is willing to risk it.

 

            They’re up against a couple of actual newlywed’s, named Gina and Tom Kensington, who might actually be real aliens. They’re wearing matching shirts. They finish each others’ sentences.  

 

            The other couple is a pair of almost-eighty year olds, who just renewed their vows. They call themselves the Grants and Gabriel really isn’t all that interested in their first names.

 

            Tom and Gina are out after the first few rounds, and somehow, Gabe and Sam are up against the Grants in a speed round. One person is asked a question and has to answer it, while the other writes the correct answer on a tablet. The answer is then compared by flashing it up on a screen. First couple to miss one loses.

 

            “What is your partner’s favorite activity on the weekends?” the host asks.

 

            “Crosswords,” Mr. Grant says.

           

            ‘Crosswords and reading’ is flashed across the screen.

 

            “Gabriel, if your partner is playing a sport, what is in his hand?”

 

            Gabriel snorts, “Probably his dick.”

 

            The restaurant erupts into laughter as ‘my erection’ is tossed across the screen. The host looks more than a little scared.

 

            “Mrs. Grant, where is the weirdest place you and your partner have ever had sex?”

 

            The little old woman looks slightly affronted, but answers softly, “Church, the night of our wedding, I believe.”

 

            The crowd applauds when ‘church’ shows up on the screen.

 

            Gabriel is slightly impressed.

           

            “Sam, what is your partner’s favorite type of fish?”

 

            Sam pauses for a moment as Gabriel scrawls furiously across the tablet.

 

            “To eat, or for emotional attachment?” Sam asks.

 

            “What?” asks the host. “Just answer the question, please, Mr. Winchester.”

 

            “I don’t know, he doesn’t like most sea food and he’s weirdly obsessed with angler fish!”

           

            The answer on the screen reads: ‘To eat or like, science wise? Because for the latter, the angler fish. For the former, ew.’

 

            The host looks more scared than impressed.

 

            “Mr. Grant, if your partner could choose any mythological creature to be, what would she choose?”

 

            “Probably a vampire queen, I don’t actually know.”

 

            The crowd boos as ‘werewolf’ pops up on the screen.

 

            “Gabriel, if you get this right, you and Sam will win the contest.”

 

            “Hit me with your best shot, baby.” Gabriel hollers, and Sam smacks him upside the head.

 

            The host rolls their eyes. “Alright, if you put a parrot in your partner’s room, what phrase would it be most likely to pick up?”

 

            “Is masturbatory noises a possible answer?”

 

            The crowd bursts into laughter. Sam’s answer flashes across the screen. The host faints.

 

            Their meal is one hundred percent on the house.

           

(**)

 

            In Arkansas, Sam calls Dean.

 

            “Dean, I’m fine, I swear.” Sam says. He sounds tired.

 

            Gabriel waits in the truck and watches as Sam leans against its hood.

 

            “No, we’re in Arkansas. It’s just a stop, yeah.” There’s a pause and Sam’s shoulders slump. “Mom would have wanted me to be happy, Dean. That’s what Mom would have wanted.”

 

            “Yes, Dean. I’m happy.”

 

            Gabriel feels a swooping sensation in his stomach at that.

 

            “I don’t know, Dean. I think missing one Thanksgiving won’t kill me. You guys have Bobby and Ellen and Jo, you’ll be fine.”

 

            The names are familiar, but in the way that Sam has mentioned them before, fleetingly, but Gabriel doesn’t really know what they are to him.

 

            “Love you too, I’ll see you soon.”

 

(**)

_1 month, 3 weeks, and 5 days until New Year’s Eve_

_November 5 th_

           

            Kansas is tiny.

 

            Gabriel isn’t expecting much out of Kansas besides a giant ball of twine, but he gets a lot more. Like when they’re in the corner store, picking up lunchables and protein bars and they see two teenage boys loitering outside, pressed close to the wall and closer to each other.

 

            Sam grins and whoops at them as they walk away, and Gabe laughs.

 

            “Why are you laughing?” Sam asks, his own happiness turning his cheeks pink.

 

            “This is _Kansas,_ Sammy boy! What are the chances of seeing anything but _corn_ in _Kansas?”_

(* _*)_

 

            Or when they pass through a little town called Lawrence, and Sam gets quieter, retreating in on himself.

           

(**)

 

            “Alright, Sam, you haven’t been this quiet since Arizona, and frankly, I’m worried about you, you big lug.” Gabriel says when he can’t stand it. Sam’s up to four cigarettes a day and Gabe just really, really wants Sam to be okay.

 

            Neither of them have enough strings left to keep going like this.

 

            “My mom- my family,” Sam starts, then stutters to a stop. “I was born here, in Lawrence.”

 

            Gabriel wasn’t expecting that.

 

            “Oh,” is his eloquent response.

 

            “She’s buried here, our old house-" Sam stops, voice tight.

 

            Gabriel shakes his head, because Sam doesn’t need to say anything else. Instead, he gives Sam a minute to himself, and when Sam climbs back into the driver’s seat, he knows exactly where they’re going.

 

(**)

 

            The cemetery is still and silent. Gabriel has never been one for any type of prolonged silence, but Sam is clutching his hands together in some sort of death grip, and Gabriel thinks words would be too much for him right now.

 

            It isn’t a lavish grave.

 

            Compared to some of the others there, it’s sparse, and it looks abandoned.

 

_Mary Winchester_

_Loving Wife, Mother, Friend_

            Gabriel thinks this is an awfully terrible time to learn Sam’s last name.

 

(**)

 

            Sam’s voice is hesitant when he starts to talk.

 

            “Hey, Mom.”

 

            Gabriel is standing a few yards back. He wants to give Sam his space, let him grieve in his own way, but he can’t find it in him to stray too far.

 

            “Uh- I know you- you probably weren’t expecting to see me here. Or maybe you knew I was coming.”

 

            Sam laughs a little at that. “I’m not really one to say where you are, or what it’s like, or how much you can see of us, but I hope it’s beautiful, wherever you are. Dean’s fine, he- uh, he’s not here now. That’s not because he didn’t wanna be though, I’m sure- I’m sure he’d love to be here.”

 

            “I know- I know you always wanted a girl, Mom. Dad used to tell me that. ‘Your mother wanted a girl, so that’s what she got.’ I’m so, so sorry if I disappointed you. I never meant to disappoint anyone. Not Dad, or Dean, or you. Dad’s got himself another son. His name’s Adam. I know you’d like him, even if he isn’t yours. We don’t see him much, but he’s- he’s a good kid. Seems like good kids get the sob stories, huh?”

 

            “I miss you, Mom. I miss you so much. I love you so, so much.”

 

            Gabriel watches as Sam bows his head a little towards the grave, his voice barely audible. He can just catch the edge of Sam’s words now.

 

            The one sentence he hears that sticks with him is the one that warms him from the inside out. He clings to it greedily; clutching it to his chest like it’s something precious.

 

            As they drive away from the cemetery, towards another motel, or maybe not, Gabriel rolls it over between his lips, liking the way it settles between his ears.

 

            _“You’d like Gabriel.”_

 

(**)

 

            The World’s Largest Ball of Twine does not disappoint.

 

            They spend almost an hour just staring at it.

 

            Sam shells out twenty bucks for them to take a tour, simply because they’re both curious what there is to be said about a giant ball of twine.

 

            Apparently there’s a lot. It would so happen that there is not only one giant ball of twine. The one that Sam and Gabe are staring at is the Cawker City Twine Ball (affectionately nick named “the World’s Largest that Keeps on Growing!!”). Gabriel refuses to make a joke about that. It’s just too easy.

 

            There’s also the Largest Ball of Twine Built by One Man, the World’s Largest Made Outta Plastic Twine, and the World’s Largest that is Really Shaped More like a Potato than a Ball. The tour guide also mentions the World’s Largest Ball of String, but they both unanimously agree that that won’t cut it.

 

            After the tour, Gabe tells Sam he feels considerably more knowledgeable about twine. Sam tells Gabe exactly where he can shove his twine if the word is said one more time.

 

(**)

_1 month, 3 weeks, and 1 day until New Year’s Eve_

_November 9 th_

 

            There’s a planetarium in Missouri that offers all night lock downs. Gabriel says it sounds more pleasant than another motel, and Sam agrees.

 

They don’t sleep. Instead, they stay up all night talking. Sam tells Gabriel about his childhood, growing up with a brother who was both mother and father and a dad who was neither.

 

Gabriel tells Sam about how his siblings fight, and how two of them are basically in love with each other. Sam doesn’t bat an eye at that, and Gabriel decides he’s definitely keeping him.

 

Sam tells Gabriel about the constellations in the ‘sky’ above them. He memorized them all in middle school when he wanted to be an astronomer.

 

Gabriel tells Sam about when he got his driver’s license. How he almost crashed twice, and his brother’s totally bribed the guy at the DMV.

 

Sam tells Gabriel about how he came out of the closet. How his dad never really accepted him, but Dean hugged him too tightly and told him he was proud to call Sam his brother.

 

Sam tells Gabriel about his first cigarette.

 

Gabriel tells Sam about Anna.

 

Sam tells Gabriel about a girl named Ruby.

 

They don’t sleep. Instead, they trade tragedies like baseball cards; each of them hoping one of their broken edges will stick to the others and make them whole again. Gabriel thinks maybe, maybe his do.

 

(**)

 

They see the World’s Largest Ball of String before they leave. Neither of them is impressed.

 

(**)

_1 month, 2 weeks, and 5 days until New Year’s Eve_

_November 12 th_

 

            Gabe decides they should stay in Kentucky for Thanksgiving. Sam rolls his eyes, but pulls into a motel for the next week and a half.

 

            After a few days, they realize that there is only so much to do in Kentucky.

 

            They marathon stupid holiday movies on Sam’s laptop, and Gabriel grabs postcards from the motel lobby for them to fill out.

 

            Gabe makes four: one for Lucifer, then Michael, then Castiel, then Raphael. He could make one for their Dad or any of their other distant family members, but he doesn’t. Mainly because his father’s a dick, and maybe because no one’s actually _heard_ from Balthazar in months (the last Gabe heard, he was running a coffee shop with a man named Samandriel and really, their family was pretty bad with the angel names, but _Samandriel?_ Poor kid), but he doesn’t.

 

The post cards he does fill out have questionable limericks written on them, and Sam snorts when he reads them.

 

            Sam fills out four. There’s one for Dean and John Winchester, of course. Then another for a Bobby Singer, then one that seems to be a joint card for Ellen and Jo Harvelle. Judging by the last names, they aren’t blood relatives, but Sam smiles fondly as he slips them into the mailbox on the street corner.

 

(**)

 

            On Thanksgiving, they sit cross legged on the motel floor and eat lunchables.

 

            “Why Kentucky?” Sam asks.

 

            “I like horses,” Gabe says, “and betting.”

 

(**)

_3 weeks, 5 days until New Year’s Eve_

_November 3 rd_

 

            Virginia is cold.

 

            Virginia Beach is even colder.

 

            But they sip hot chocolate and apple cider and Gabriel demands Sam give him a piggy back ride. When he’s pressed against Sam’s back, with his nose pressed to the warmth of Sam’s neck, he can’t even feel the chill.

 

            They’re on the pier when Sam asks it, the question that’s been bugging Gabe since New Orleans. The one even he doesn’t have the answer to. He really, really wishes he did.

 

            “Gabe,” Sam asks, “What are we doing?”

 

            Gabe stares up at him for a moment, before returning his gaze to the water. He thought he would miss the California coast, but he likes this beach better. As cold and dreary as it is, it seems more like what an ocean should be.

 

            “I don’t know about you,” Gabe says, picking his words carefully, “but I’m traveling across the country with the best road trip buddy a college student could ever ask for.”

 

            Sam takes a moment to respond, and when he does, he’s smiling.

 

            “Yeah, okay.”

 

            He turns to head back down the pier, and Gabe hurries after him.

 

            “I mean it!” he calls after Sam’s back, “You don’t snore and you let me use you as a pillow!”

 

            Sam manages to turn at the exact same time Gabriel plows into him. He rights himself quickly, jamming the wool hat further onto his head.

 

            “You snore,” Sam says, “ _and_ you drool.”

 

            Gabe smiles at him, “You love me anyways.”

 

            He pointedly ignores the catch in Sam’s breath, and they carry on their way. If Gabriel smiles at his hot chocolate more than any sane person should, well, it’s sort of a fact that Gabriel really isn’t exactly sane.

             

(**)

 

            The voicemail, whatever it says, leaves Sam quiet for a few days. Not as quiet as Lawrence, but almost. Gabe worries until they reach Boston, and whatever it is that seems to be weighing Sam down disappears.

 

(**)

_3 weeks until New Year’s Eve_

_December 4 th_

 

Unsurprisingly, it’s very cold in Boston in December. There is, in fact, snow. They’ve been driving past cold, wet, brown slush for a week or so now. This is not slush. This is honest to god _snow,_ and Gabriel wants to bury his face in it.

 

            Sam, ever wise, tells him that that is probably not the best idea he’s ever had.

 

            So of course, roughly five minutes after they get settled in the newest motel room, Gabriel runs outside. He returns only moments later with blue lips, and snow clinging to his eyelashes.

 

            So, so worth it.

 

(**)

 

            “How about Maine for Christmas?”

 

            “Sounds good to me.”

 

(**)

_2 weeks, 3 days until New Year’s Eve_

_December 11 th_

 

            Castiel calls him two weeks before Christmas.

 

            “Samuel’s brother called me,” he says instead of hello.

 

            “Dean?” Gabriel asks, and Sam looks up from the road. Gabriel motions at him to keep driving, but puts his cell phone on speaker so Sam can listen, too.

 

            “Yes,” Castiel says a little impatiently, “Dean Winchester. He called to inquire as to his brother’s whereabouts. He is,” Castiel pauses and Gabe can almost see the furrow between his brother’s eyebrows, “persistent.”

 

            “Yeah, that’s Dean,” Sam murmurs.

 

            “Sam, I’m assuming?” Castiel asks.

 

            “In the flesh- well, you know what I mean,” Sam says. “You must be Castiel. I’m sorry about my brother.”

  
            “I could say the same to you.”

 

            “Hey now,” Gabe cuts in, “I’m delightful.”

 

            “Really not the time, Gabe,” Sam says, but he’s smiling.

 

            Castiel chooses this moment to continue telling them about whatever’s going on, “As I was calling to say: Dean is currently at my apartment, Gabriel, and would like to speak to Sam.”

 

            “He’s driving,” is Gabriel’s automatic response. “So anything he has to say has to be said over speaker phone.”

 

            They hear Castiel relay the message to Dean.

 

            “He said to tell Sam to call him when you two stop for the night.”

 

            “Alright,” Sam says.

 

            There’s a pause.

 

            “Also he’s calling me _Cas_ , Gabriel. I blame you.”

 

            The line goes dead. Sam and Gabe are silent for a few beats before Gabe says, “Cas?”

 

            Sam shrugs helplessly, “The last time he gave someone a nickname, it was the girl he liked in eighth grade.”

 

            “Is your brother flirting with my brother?”

 

            Sam’s eyes go wide, “God, I hope not, if only for Cas’ sake.”

 

            Gabriel snorts, “Cas. God damn, ain’t life incredible?”

 

(**)

 

            They spend two weeks at a Bed & Breakfast in Maine.

 

            It’s warm and clean and the owner is a little old woman who tells them they look good together.

 

            They both fumble over stammered denial, but she just smiles and hands them their key. Gabriel finds a coffee shop on the second day. The red headed girl behind the counter writes _24601_ on his cup when he tells her his name is Jean Val Jean.

 

            He drags Sam there with a smile, telling him he has to see his newest discovery. Sam looks almost worried when Gabriel’s discovery goes by the name of Charlie, and tells him Gabe’s a catch.

 

            “We are talking about the same person, right?” he asks, and Gabriel pushes him out of his chair.

 

            “Whatever, Sasquatch, you _adore_ me,” Gabriel says.

 

            Sam raises an eyebrow, “And who invited who on this trip again?”

 

            Gabriel grins, “Who said yes?”

 

            Charlie laughs, muttering, “Cute,” as she goes back to work.

 

            This time, neither of them makes any attempt to deny it.

 

            Gabriel still isn’t sure what that means.

 

(**)

 

            On Christmas Eve, Gabriel turns on the little television in their room and, just like every year, Charlie Brown is playing on repeat. He and Sam watch it over and over again, until they’re half asleep and both of them are saying the lines with the characters.

 

            The next morning, Sam is gone, but there’s a box on Gabe’s nightstand wrapped in ridiculously bright paper festooned in cartoon reindeer.

 

            The scarf is a muted gold, made of some kind of soft material he can’t place. He wraps it tightly around his neck before he leaves, and though he’s almost sure it’s just his imagination, it smells like Sam.

           

            He leaves Sam’s gift in the same place he found his, leaving the motel room. The book of constellations isn’t much, but it was the best he could find in the mystic’s shop down the street. There wasn’t much.

 

(**)

_1 week until New Year’s Eve_

_December 25 th, Christmas Day_

           

            They spend Christmas night sitting on the floor of their room.

           

            “Every year,” Sam says, (because this is what they do, they tell stories. Gabriel knows that one third of Sam is tragedy, another is fire, and the rest is a story. It’s like grasping at smoke, this thing they’re doing. Gabriel is never able to tell what road they’re on, because he sucks at reading maps, but he trusts Sam to get them wherever they’re going.)

 

            “My brother and I would decorate the tree together on Christmas Eve. He would lift me up so I could put the star on top. We don’t- we haven’t had a tree the last few years, John wouldn’t let us. He said it was a fire hazard.”

 

            “One Christmas I rigged smoke bombs to the tree so when my brothers switched the lights on, we had to evacuate.”

 

            “Oh my god _, Gabriel.”_

(**)

_15 hours and 17 minutes until midnight_

_8:42 AM_

_New York City_

 

            Gabriel is in love with Sam Winchester.

 

            He knew this, of course. He’s been in love with Sam since Arizona, but now, now it’s really hitting him. It’s hitting him because he’s sitting in a Starbucks Coffee House in New York City on New Year’s Eve and the line stretched halfway around the building. Sam had waved Gabe off to find a seat once they were close, and Gabe had taken it without telling Sam what he wanted.

           

            Sam returned to their little table with two drinks: a cup of spiced chai tea for himself and something for Gabe. He’s cautiously optimistic.

           

            “What is it?” Gabe asked.

           

            “Venti, one pump caramel, one pump white mocha, pumpkin spiced latte with caramel under and on top of the whipped cream with 3 and a half shots of espresso. And extra whipped cream.” Sam recites, face relaxed, like he’s sure he’s got it right.

 

            Gabriel takes a sip and grins. He did.

 

            “Should I be worried about your obscene caffeine habits?” Sam asks.

 

            Gabriel shrugs, “It hasn’t killed me yet.”

 

            There’s a pause, and Gabriel isn’t good with pauses. Silences always seem to say too much.

 

            “You know my coffee order.”

           

            Sam ducks his head slightly, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

 

            They drink in silence for a little while, and it’s not weird for once, and occasionally they look out the window because they’re _in New York._ They’re in New York and Sam knows his far too complicated coffee order and Gabriel can feel something building, like something important is about to happen.

 

            They’re in New York and it’s New Year’s Eve and Gabriel Novak is in love with Sam Winchester.

 

(**)

_11 hours and 26 minutes until midnight_

_12:34 PM_

            The Empire State Building is ridiculously crowded. They climb to the top anyways, because Gabriel’s hopped up on caffeine and Sam is too happy to care.

           

            The view doesn’t disappoint. All of New York spreads out around them, looking so similar to some kind of movie scene. It’s like they’re at the top of an apple tree, and all the ripest fruit is theirs’ for the taking. Gabriel wants to take it all.

 

            Sam is staring in awe.

           

            “Impressive, huh, Sammy?” Gabriel asks.

 

            “Can you believe this?” asks Sam. “We’re in New York.”

 

            Sam is staring out at the city, but Gabriel is looking at Sam. The wind is blowing his hair around his face, but he doesn’t move to fix it. His voice comes out softer than he means it to, “Yeah. Can’t quite believe it.”

 

(**)

_46 minutes to midnight_

_11:34 PM_

 

            Times Square is not what Gabriel expected.

 

            It’s one hundred times louder, more crowded, and absolutely more insane than anything he’s ever experienced before. But he’s experiencing it now. He’s with Sam and Times Square is louder than a rock concert and Gabriel would know, he’s been to quite a few.

 

            Sam is looking up at the glowing ball hanging in the sky (almost 45 minutes until it drops) and Gabriel wants to tell him.

 

            He doesn’t know if Sam will understand.

 

            So he opens his mouth and says, “It’s really _loud,_ isn’t it?”

 

            Sam leans in close, saying, “Well, _yeah!”_

“It’s kinda loud,” Gabriel repeats, and he feels like he has a fist around his heart and it’s beating over time, trying to escape.

           

            “It’s kinda _New York City,”_ Sam says, laughing.

 

            Sam is intangible at times, and Gabriel thinks he has to be imagining this boy with too much hair and too long limbs and there isn’t enough time to figure out if he’s real or not, is there?

 

            He has forty-three minutes.

 

            “I kinda want more coffee,” Gabriel says.

 

            “I kinda think you don’t need any more caffeine.”

 

            He needs to say it. They’ve been across the country and they have to go all the way back and Gabriel can’t spend another three months in a car with Sam without telling him he loves him. He loves him and god damn it he needs to say something.

 

            “I kinda love caffeine,” he says.

 

            “I kinda love New York.”

 

            “I kind of love you.”

 

            “ _What?”_

Gabriel inhales through his nose, and his heart feels like there’s a silver cord tightening around it, but he talks. He’s always been good at talking. “My brothers always used to say that you had to make one big mistake. That it would shape you into who you needed to be. Maybe it would happen when you were twelve, or maybe when you were- when you were in college. Maybe it happened for me, Sam. In college. It happened in college in a chemistry lab with a boy named Sam Winchester who didn’t love himself enough, but his _heart,_ his heart was so _good._

 

            You know I’ve always believed in reincarnation? Past lives, and all that. I think we have those. My big mistake was that I think maybe, I knew you in a past life and I lost you. I probably did something stupid and went and died or got myself blown up. I left you behind and I think I knew that when I invited you on this damned trip.

 

            My big mistake was falling in love with you before I ever met you, Sam Winchester.”

 

            “But damn it,” he’s crying. Why is he crying? “I love you, Sam, and I won’t lose you this time around.”

 

(**)

 

            Sam turns around and walks towards the car without saying a word.

 

            Like he always has, and always will, Gabriel follows Sam.

 

(**)

 

            There is a moment, Gabriel thinks, after you make a mistake, where you reflect on that mistake. You can regret it, or you can revere it, but the moment always comes. This moment happens for him in Sam’s truck, driving away from New York City.

 

            He tries to sleep, he honestly does. Sam is driving and the music is playing softly and Sam hasn’t said a word. He hasn’t said a _single word._ Gabriel’s confession was pretty well done, he thinks, so why hasn’t Sam said something.

 

            At this point, he would have been happier with a “lol never gonna happen” than this apparent silent treatment Sam has going on.

 

            They’re almost out of New York City when it happens. It also happens just as Gabriel is dozing off, too, but when has Sam’s timing ever been anything but impeccably irritating.

 

            “Gabe.”

 

            “Yeah, kiddo?” Gabe says as he sits up, stretching his arms over his head.

 

            “Are you awake?” Sam asks. His voice is off, but after tonight, Gabriel is sure his own voice isn’t the image of its usual perfection either.

 

            “No, Sammy, I died. Now I’m talking to you from the great beyond.” He pauses, yawning widely, “There’s a lot of fire and brimstone in heaven, though.”

 

            Sam laughs almost imperceptibly, “Shut up, Gabe.”

 

            “Yeah, yeah,” says Gabriel, “what’s up?”

 

            “Guess what time it is.”

 

            “What?”

 

            “Just do it.” Sam seems tense, and though Gabriel isn’t sure he’s allowed to be, he’s still worried. Words are like bullets sometimes, once you’ve said them, they’re out there. You can say all the ‘sorry’ you want, but it doesn’t heal the wounds.

 

            Gabriel has no idea where Sam is aiming his gun.

 

            “Close to midnight, I’m assuming,” Gabriel says quietly.

 

            “Two minutes ‘til, but you were close.”

 

            Gabriel sits up a little straighter, shaking himself awake. “Oh, goody, do I win a prize?”

 

            Sam chuckles. Gabe can just see out the window, and the car isn’t moving. Sam is parked in one of those stops on the side of the road where people with flat tires and no gas go to call their friends.

           

            He watches quietly as Sam gets out of the truck and rests against the hood, face tilted up to the sky. Gabe follows silently.

 

            The sky is some kind of purple, and he can see New York City’s bright lights spread out in front of them. You can’t see the stars, but Gabriel doesn’t mind. The lights almost look like stars anyways, and Gabriel could stare at them forever.

 

            “Did you know,” Sam says, startling Gabe out of his own head, “did you know that if you kiss someone at midnight, on New Year’s Eve, they’re supposed to stay with you through the coming year?”

 

            Gabriel stops breathing.

 

            “Oh my god, you absolute _psycho!_ You couldn’t just say ‘I love you, too’? Like a _normal human being?!”_

            Gabriel leaps at Sam, ranting breathlessly about freaky tall boys and boring museums and batman. Sam catches him, laughing hard, and holds him close. Gabriel’s feet leave the ground as Sam hauls him up. Sam’s chest is warm, and he smells like the city.

 

            “Sam Winchester! Put me down, you- you _caveman!”_

In response, Sam clutches him closer. Gabriel’s hands are trapped between their chests and his breath is coming a little too quickly. He squirms enough that Sam loosens his grip a little, and he can maneuver his way up. The position is a lot more comfortable when he can wrap his legs around Sam’s waist and cup Sam’s face in his hands.

 

            “Still want me to put you down?” Sam says, but his smile is just the littlest bit sadistic.

 

            “Don’t you even think about it,” Gabriel says. If his voice is more than a little breathless, who could honestly blame him?

 

            “Sir, yes, sir,” Sam says teasingly, but it shoots straight to Gabriel’s groin. He rests his forehead against Sam’s shoulder, a soft noise slipping from between his lips.

 

            “Gabe?” Sam asks, a little worriedly.

 

            Gabriel turns his head and burrows his face into Sam’s neck, teeth scraping gently at the tendon there.

 

            _“Oh,”_ Sam says. The sound is so pretty that Gabriel wants to hear it again, and again, and again. Possibly infinite amount of times. He sucks a little at the same spot and he hears Sam suck in a breath.

 

            “Don’t be quiet, Sammy.” Gabriel murmurs into Sam’s skin. “I love your voice too much for you to be quiet.”

 

            “You love my voice, huh?” Sam says, and it’s light and joking, but Gabriel leans away from Sam’s neck to look him in the eyes.

 

            “I love your voice,” he repeats, firmer than before. “I love your voice, and your stupid puns. I love your music, and your hair, and your dumb face.”

 

            “Really feeling that love, Gabe,” Sam says.

 

            “Shut your stupid mouth, Gigantor, I’m not done.”

 

            “Wow,” says Sam.

 

            Gabriel kisses Sam quickly, pulling away and grinning when Sam chases after.

 

            “I _said,_ shut your stupid mouth.”

 

            Sam nods eagerly, eyes flickering across Gabe’s face.

 

            “Better,” Gabriel says, nose bumping Sam’s, “now, where was I?”

 

            Sam moves backwards until he’s back to leaning against the car. Gabriel shifts so he’s still straddling Sam’s lap, but this is definitely a better vantage point.

 

            “I love your mouth, and your clothes, and your eyes,” he pauses, “I mean, seriously, what the fuck color _are they?_ ”

           

            Sam shakes his head fondly, “It’s called hazel.”

 

            “Oh, is it?” Gabriel says, smirking, “And who said you were allowed to talk yet?”

 

            Sam pantomimes’ zipping his lips, but Gabriel knows that it won’t last. He’s looking forward to it, actually.

 

            “I love your movie references,” Gabriel continues, “and your bed head. I love how much you love those dumb museums. I love how you sleep in just your boxers and a shirt.” He pauses, thoughtful, “I _really_ love how you sleep in just your boxers and just a shirt.”

 

            “I love you, Sam, more than you know,” Gabriel finishes quietly, nosing his way along Sam’s jaw line. “I love how much you love your brother. I love how you have such a good heart. I love you like the moon loves the tide. I love that you memorized every single constellation. I even love your cigarette habit. I love that you know my favorite fish, like who even learns that about a person?”

 

            Sam is silent, but his eyes are wondrous, watching Gabe like he’s the world’s best television show.

 

            “You can talk now,” Gabriel whispers.

 

            “You’re weirdly obsessed with the angler fish, but you won’t eat most seafood,” Sam says, “and I love you, too.”

Gabriel’s grin falters. He lunges forward and captures Sam’s lips in his own, pressing as close as he can. Sam tastes like the stars they can’t quite see, and Gabriel feels like he’s exploding.

 

            He swipes his tongue across Sam’s bottom lip and Sam parts his own easily. There isn’t so much a battle as there is Gabriel licking his way single mindedly into Sam’s mouth and Sam giving just as much as he’s receiving.

 

            They tumble their way to the back of the truck, and Gabriel is eternally grateful for the blankets and pillows that are already back there.

 

            Then he realizes: _blankets and pillows are already back there._

 

            He stares at them for a second before turning to Sam. “Oh my god, you totally planned for this. Sam Winchester, were you trying to seduce me?”

 

            Sam grins, flushing, “Depends, did it work?”

 

            Gabriel tugs Sam close, muttering against his mouth, “Oh _hell_ yes.”

 

(**)

 

They wind up tangled up, naked in the back of the truck. Gabe is sucking along Sam’s collar bone, when Sam taps his shoulder.

 

“Gabe, I haven’t- I’ve never,” he starts, looking frightened.

 

Gabe leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Sam’s forehead, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to do anything tonight, alright?”

 

“But I- you want to.”

 

“Okay, yeah, no. If that’s your argument then we are definitely not going any further.”

 

Sam’s face falls, and he clutches at Gabriel. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No. No, no, no, no, don’t be sorry!” Gabriel says quickly. “I love you, Sam. I love you more than I think I can ever understand and it doesn’t even scare me like it should. You aren’t ready tonight, and that’s okay.”

 

“You’re serious,” Sam says.

 

“As a deadly pathogen,” Gabriel says solemnly.

 

“God, you’re so weird,” Sam says, tugging Gabe closer to kiss him.

 

They kiss for a little bit before Gabriel pulls away. Sam is quick to tug him back, placing one of Gabriel’s hands on his breast.

 

“This,” Sam breathes against Gabriel’s lips, “I’m okay with this.”

 

“You’re sure?” Gabriel asks, pupils blown wide.

 

Sam nods, hitching a leg around Gabriel’s thigh, “I’m okay with this. Then, tomorrow, we’re going to the closest sex toy shop we can find.”

 

“Oh we are, are we?” Gabriel asks, but his voice is rough, breaking on the edges.

 

“Mhm and you’re going to pick out a strap-on, and then we’re getting a motel room, and then we’re going to take turns fucking each other until neither of us can walk.”

 

Gabriel stammers for a second, before rolling forward and kissing Sam hard, “That sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

  
(**)

 

            When Gabriel wakes up, he and Sam are both still tangled in the back of the truck and both still very much naked. Sam is carding his hands through Gabriel’s hair and Gabe leans into the touch.

 

            “Morning, Sammy,” Gabe says sleepily, pressing closer to Sam’s warmth.

 

            “Morning, Gabe,” Sam replies.

 

            Sam drops a kiss on Gabe’s lips, chuckling when Gabe presses closer after he pulls away. Sam kisses him again and Gabriel smiles into it. “Happy New Year, Sam.”

 

            “Happy New Year, Gabriel.”

 

            They stay like that for a few more minutes, quietly blinking open their eyes and trading silent kisses, both still a little in awe at the other.

           

            “Hey, Sam?” Gabriel says after a bit, sitting up and stretching.

 

            “Yeah?” Sam says, relaxing on his forearms and watching Gabriel.

 

            “How do you feel about backpacking through Europe?”

 

            Sam’s quiet laughter echoes across the empty road.

 

Gabriel is glad he’s there to hear it.

 

“I love you, Gabriel.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

(**)

 

Is a mistake really considered a mistake when you never once regret making it?

Or is it then just a choice?

Are we bound by some greater force than us, darling tell me,

What are your thoughts on red string?

Tied around your littlest finger

And mine.

 

(kw  x)

**Author's Note:**

> yoooo i hope u enjoyed you can find me on tumblr at grantairres, on twitter at @skaiasphere and on ig at @kaistiel
> 
> this is also dedicated to the darling pug (whose tumblr is either spookysabriel - or if youre reading this After Halloween its probs carryonmywaywardpug man idfk but i love them)


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